Beacon Hills Kombat
by Mystik
Summary: Stiles is not the only one who keeps secrets in his family. Chapter 1 up!
1. Prologue

**Pairing: **Derek/Stiles, Johnny Cage/Sonya Blade

**Genre:** Slash, Action, Gore

**Notes:** Started working on this before season 3 aired, so for all intents and purposes it's a season 3 AU. And I wrote this based on the movie, not the game, because c'mon. I have Johnny FREAKING Cage on this show.

* * *

**Beacon Hills Kombat - prologue**

John Stilinski had a secret. A huge secret that no one knew. No one alive, that is.

Once he was a movie star. Gladly, his films now were remembered by no one, thanks to his 'witness protection'. But once he had all he thought he ever wanted.

Until a shaolin monk and a goddamn thunder God changed everything.

Once he was famous action star Johnny Cage. Once he fought in a tournament called Mortal Kombat. Once he survived the apocalypse on Earth.

But once all of that ended, he wanted to be gone, to disappear. Raiden was kind in erase any memory of the world of his former self. He got to start over in a little town called Beacon Hills. He got to get a new profession, got to marry the woman he loved and have a child. Outworld was just a distant memory he buried.

But nothing stays buried forever.

TBC.


	2. Chapter 1

**Pairing: **Derek/Stiles, Johnny Cage/Sonya Blade

**Genre:** Slash, Action, Gore

**Notes:** Started working on this before season 3 aired, so for all intents and purposes it's a season 3 AU. And I wrote this based on the movie, not the game, because c'mon. I have Johnny FREAKING Cage on this show.

* * *

**Beacon Hills Kombat - Chapter one**

The pack of Alphas coming to Beacon Hills was the last thing Stiles was thinking about. Because he was going to be dead before they were even here anyway, if the look on his dad's face was any indication.

Well, sheriff Stilinski couldn't be blamed to have that murderous look when he arrived at home from a night shift and found ex-convict Derek Hale bleeding on his bathroom floor. _With his son shirtless curled in front of him_.

"Hey...dad." squeaked Stiles, standing and trying to ignore the pink elephant in the room. Or big sourwolf, whatever.

"You have five seconds to explain everything. Before I get my shotgun and kick him out."

"Well..."

"I think you..." Derek groaned, interrupting their stare contest. "should tell him everything."

"What?"

John turned his look on Derek and swiftly noticed that despite of all the blood, the older man didn't seen hurt. The color was even returning to his former pale complexion.

"Four seconds Stiles."

He visibly saw his son's shoulder slumping.

"I'm gonna need more than four seconds, dad."

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

"So...werewolves? In Beacon Hills?"

"I know right? Why this small town of all places? And I'm so glad you're not using your disbelieving voice, because the explanation would be even longer and Derek would have to prove, and he just recovered from a series of wounds, and even though he can heal, he..."

"Stiles." Derek voice cut through the blabbering, his hand touching his shoulder. "Breathe."

The teen nodded, breathing slowly and wringing his hands together above the kitchen table.

The sheriff watched their interaction with curiosity. Since now everything was out in the open, he could understand that they had time to became familiar with each other and allow those kind of touches. But Derek didn't seem the kind of person to touch other people.

John rubbed his temples, sensing a headache coming. He sometimes wished Sonya was still alive; she would have dealt with this so much better than him. Or she would have knocked Derek unconscious and then asked questions.

He smiled faintly. "Your mother would have a better time dealing with this."

Stiles made a guilty face and Derek removed his hand from his shoulder, standing up.

"I should go. You...have a lot to talk."

"Hold on." the sheriff halted Derek. "I want to meet the rest of your...pack. If my son is gonna hang around you, and God knows I can't stop him even if I wanted to...I want to meet everybody."

Derek nodded.

"Fair enough."

John watched Stiles move with Derek to let him out and sighed. That tiny part of him that always sensed when something was about to go to shit? Came back in full force.

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

He couldn't sleep. And yeah, probably he had his son to blame for that.

John had a glass of whisky on his hand as he watched the soft rise and fall of his son chest as he slept, the light of the moon the only illumination he had.

He snorted and closed the door softly behind him as he went down the stairs, into the kitchen and putting the now empty glass on the sink. He sighed, covering his face with one of his hands.

"I just wanted him to have a normal life Sonya..." mumbled the sheriff, sadly.

"Such a lovely home you have here..."

John almost broke the glass in his hand. He turned around and watched the shadow in the living room. His gun was near the door, but the kitchen knife was within grabbing distance.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

The shadow approached and let the low light of the kitchen illuminate his face.

"It's been a long time...sheriff."

John paled.

"You."

The man smiled kindly. It was his worst smile.

"We need to talk."

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

Erica moved her eyes frantically all around her, her nose scenting the worst kind of things: death, blood and things non-human. Next to her Boyd was still unconscious.

"Looks like our little blonde is up."

Her head snapped up and watched wearily as a woman approached, her red eyes staring at her with a smirk.

"Are you scared? You should be little one." the woman grabbed her chin and made Erica look at her. "You two will be going on a very unpleasant journey."

Erica snarled as the woman let her go. She just laughed.

"But first, we will leave a trail for your beloved alpha."

Erica rattled the iron chains keeping her immobile as the werewolf grabbed her by the hair.

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

"Wake up Stiles."

The teen groaned as his dad shook him up. Soon the curtains were open and broad light hit his face.

"Daaaad..."

"I'm serious. Get up and get dressed. And let your friend Derek knows we are coming."

That made Stiles almost fall from the bed. He got up fast and looked at his father leaving the room.

"Dad? What happened? And why are we going to Derek's?"

John went back just enough to see his son almost tripping in his haste to change clothes. He smiled faintly, but soon he was all business again.

"I may have…information on the alpha pack you're talking about yesterday."

Stiles finished putting his shirt and gaped at his father.

"What?! How?"

"Stiles."

The tone was final and Stiles finished dressing, knowing he wouldn't win the argument. Not right now, anyway. He quickly followed his dad and was surprised when he directed them to his jeep, even letting him drive.

Soon enough they were entering the Beacon Hills preserve towards the Hale house, since Derek moved back in the being-renewed house, the silence almost deafening. Stiles tried to pry something from his dad at the beginning, but John seemed intent to take a page out of Derek Hale and be painfully silent. Now it was just awkward.

Stiles never were happier to see the pack in front of the still decrepit house as they approached. At least what was left of the pack; Isaac, Peter, Derek and Scott. Lydia and Jackson were nowhere to be seen. He stopped the jeep and promptly got out, not waiting for his father.

"Yo sourwolf, how are the wounds?"

Derek rolled his eyes, he's eyebrows saying 'werewolf, idiot'. At least that was Stiles story and he was sticking to it. Peter climbed down the stairs of the rundown house and smirked.

"Both Stilinskis here? What's the occasion?"

The sheriff glared at the man, not impressed by the voice. Soon he turned to Derek and a sigh escaped his lips.

"Like I told Stiles, I may have information on the alpha pack."

For a moment Derek snarled, his teeth bared.

"What? How?"

"That's what I've been asking him the whole trip here! But he didn't say anything to me!" exclaimed Stiles.

John sighed loudly, walking toward the werewolf.

"Before that, I need to tell you something first. You need to hear this too, son."

Stiles looked at his dad curiously, frowning when he saw the serious look on his face. They all followed the sheriff inside the burnt-out house as John sighed.

Why the past couldn't stay in the past?

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

"Wait a second. Wait just a minute now. Are you saying that some freakish warrior lord, from another dimension I might add, is the one behind the Alpha pack? And they are some kind of scouts of fighters, that's why they're here?"

The sheriff shrugged, a trait that apparently Stiles shared.

"Basically…yeah."

Peter crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"No offense sheriff, but how do you know that?"

John sighed. He really hoped nobody would ask that, because he didn't feel like reminiscing the past. He opened his mouth, ready to bit the bullet when all the werewolves in the room stood up, baring their teeth. Stiles widened his eyes.

"What's going on?"

"There's someone approaching. He smells…weird." snarled Derek.

"What do you smell?"

"Ozone and rain."

John stood as well, walking fast towards the door, passing through the werewolves. Before any of them could protest the sheriff opened the door, going to the porch. His voice was cold.

"What are you doing here?"

The rest came out of the house to see him glaring at a man approaching. He was wearing a kind of a white robe, similar to a Buddhist priest attire. His hair was white as snow and touched his shoulders in waves. He was smiling serenely, not perturbed by the group of snarling werewolves glaring at him.

"Do you know him dad?" asked Stiles, touching John's shoulder.

The man smiled wider.

"I see I arrived too early, didn't give you the time to finish the story Johnny. So, by all means, carry on."

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here."

The man raised his hands in peace.

"Call off the werewolves Johnny, I came here to help you."

"I seriously doubt that."

Stiles opened his mouth to ask something but the words died in his throat when the man's face turned cold and his eyes…_glowed_.

"You want me to take back everything I did for you? Because I can do that…sheriff Stilinski."

John just picked up his gun and pointed at the man. Stiles and Scott grabbed one hand each.

"Mr. Stilinski, I don't think that's the best attitude…"

"Dad! Harsh much?"

The man smiled coldly.

"A gun? Really Johnny? Are you forgetting who I am?"

"And who are you?"

Derek's flat voice echoed behind Stiles. The teen turned to look at the alpha, seeing him stare at the stranger with arms crossed, his biceps bulging beneath the Henley.

The man approached more, still smiling, until he stopped on the steps of the porch. His eyes were definitely glowing; a white light invaded them, making lightning come out of his orbs.

"My name is Raiden and I'm the God of Thunder. Our time is short. I come bearing news of part of your pack Hale, but I'm afraid are not good ones."

Stiles gaped and he was sure he was not the only one.

_God of Thunder_?!

TBC


End file.
